A Little Game: Blood of the Mandrake
by Clutter
Summary: *Spoiler Alert* Merlin S05E06 This is about Gwen's imprisonment in The Dark Tower (S05E06). Yup, and I just love Evil Gwen, she's so cool. (especially when she killed Ty aka Samwell Tarly. - E07) And the last phrase, I couldn't resist, so please don't hate on that. My first story, so please comment. Constructive criticism is more than welcome. Thank you for reading, and enjoy.


A Little Game: Blood of the Mandrake

It was so cold. So cold and so dark and so very frightening. The shadows smothered her, and she shivered.

It was silent, for now, except for the incessant dripping. The mandrakes were everywhere, swaying to their own music. Drip Drop Drip Drop. They were alive, and they were evil, that much she was certain, for it could not have been the wind that swayed them, there was never any wind. The air was stale and stank of death.

Drip. Who was it that was dying now? A woman howled, and cried and screamed and screamed and screamed. Gwen covered her ears, but the woman was too loud. Crying and sobbing and wailing, and then gasping and dying.

Drop. And all was silent. Then it was the children. "Stop it.", she whimpered, "please, please, please, please, please." She was crying now, and shaking. It was so cold. She wondered if it was the cold that was hurting the children. They were in so much pain, she could hear it in their voices, and they were terrified. "Stop it stop it stop it stop it STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT" she shrieked, but nobody heard, and nobody listened.

Minutes passed, and the mandrakes dripped and dropped, black blood pooling on the hard floor. Was it them shrieking as their heads were pulled off, and their grotesque elongated limbs engulfed by the thick sticky tar? She huddled on the ground, rocking back and forth.

"Gwen? It's me Gwen." She must have fallen asleep. Her limbs were stiff and sore, and her arm buckled beneath her as she tried to push herself up. Her shoulder thumped painfully on the floor and she whimpered. It was painful to move- her joints had turned as stubborn as rusted hinges and her muscles were cramped and frozen. "Gwen, it's me, I've come to save you."

"Eliot." she whispered, "Eliot." and there he was, in front of her, handsome in his armour. She was so proud of him, so very proud. A man grown, not the silly boy she brought up. They had gone to visit their father just that morning, or was it yesterday's morning? It was hard to tell, it was so dark and so cold and so very frightening in the cell. They were toying with her mind, this fear, but it would all be alright now, with Eliot there, with Eliot smiling at her. Father would be so proud.

Drip. Something was wrong. She could sense it. _Bring me away Eliot. _Her shining knight. _Glowing._ Why was he blue? His sword was still sheathed, she realized. Why was he laughing? _Stop laughing Eliot, and take me from this wretched place. Please stop laughing Eliot._ "No please don't", but the words were lost in her throat. "No, Eliot please," And then he was gone, but his laughter remained. He was giving her a headache. _That's not Eliot. Eliot never taunted me. He never did. It's not him. It's not him. It's not._ She crouched back down on the ground, head buried in the crook of her arms. _I will not break._ She thought as the laughter rang in her ears. _Morgana will not win this game._ _Morgana will not win this game. _She repeated it to herself until it turned into a prayer, but she was so cold, and didn't know if she still believed in gods anymore.

Her stomach growled, so loudly that it woke her.She was grateful, for the nightmare that she was having was terrible. Arthur was there, laughing as he was pulled apart by the mandrakes. Fingers first, then toes, then hands, and each time he laughed harder and harder. _Run Arthur! Run!_ She had shouted, but he just smiled and stared at her and snickered. She tried to run to him, but she was stuck, legs trapped by a pool of dark liquid, black, with traces of red. It was thicker than quicksand and it was hungry, sucking her down, grasping eagerly at her thighs as she watched her husband's left hand get twisted off. Half a round and his bones cracked. By the second round his skin broke and blood gushed out, but the muscles still refused to tear. Seven rounds it took till the chunk of flesh fell to the ground and rolled over to her, toppling over into the edge of the pool and sinking in. She had screamed then, as terrible as any of the screams that haunted her. And then her stomach growled and she woke. _It's not real._ She told herself, curled up on the floor. _It's not real._ She hugged her knees tight against chest. _It's not real, and I will not cry._ She was sick of crying. Crying tired her out, and she mustn't go back to sleep.

Drop. She started. It fell on her cheek, cold and thick and dark as ink. Another fell on her nose, and she scrambled back until she crashed into a pillar. Pain flared up in the small of her back and she bit her lip to stop from screaming. It was day again, and the ground was covered in squares of dim light, but the room had never felt more sinister. _Arthur will be here, and so will Merlin and the knights of the round table. They will come and they will rescue me. _But it was a trap, and they would be walking into it. _They mustn't come. Morgana has magic and it's a trap._ But she wanted them to, she needed them to. They had to come or the fear would drive her insane. _They cannot come, _she knew,but they will, and she drew comfort from that thought. _You selfish girl._ But she was so tired, and she mustn't sleep. _You selfish, selfish girl._

Drip. "Gwen." A whisper.

"Merlin." _He were here!_ He peeked around a pillar and beckoned to her, and she moved towards him. Morgana didn't know, did she? He was so furtive, she couldn't know. She turned around to check anyway, but everything stayed the same. _Look both ways_, a voice cautioned, and she listened. She looked over her right shoulder and turned to her left. All was silent, but where did he go? _Merlin?_ He jumped at her from behind a pillar, face distorted and angry, and she gasped and kicked away, scraping her knees and tearing her dress. _Where did he go?_ She was petrified. Suddenly the door opened behind her, and she almost screamed. Warmth and light flooded in, and there was Morgana, standing in the doorway. Against the light, she looked as if she had a halo around her. "Come," she smiled, "Let us have something to eat." Gwen obeyed, rushing to her feet, backing into a mandrake in her haste. She cringed, but it didn't frighten her as much as it did back then, in the cold and all alone. She turned and rushed out, pausing only to glance back, but he wasn't there anymore. Wherever he went, he would not follow her out the room.

There were torches lining the stairs, and the flames were steady and strong, casting an orange glow over the steps. They were so beautiful, and Gwen descended eagerly into their light.

_For the night is dark and full of terrors._


End file.
